The Only Good Thing
by Ohjazzy
Summary: The story of Matt's sad, short life, from his P.O.V.


Hi, my name is Mail Jeevas, better known as Matt. Well, _only_ known as Matt, actually. I'm a nineteen year old hacker who has been dragged into a situation much bigger than me, but not entirely against my will, and I doubt I will live to see my twentieth birthday. Are you curious yet? Well, here is my story...

I remember the day when I first went to Wammy's House. I was seven years old, newly orphaned, alone in the world and, I'll admit, scared. The day I arrived it was cold and raining, which seemed a little cliché, but I soon learned that it rained a lot in England. I had never been very fond of the outdoors, though, so it didn't bother me much.

I was young, but I understood that this was not a normal orphanage. It was an orphanage for gifted children; a house full of geniuses. That made me even more nervous. Since when had I been "gifted", I'd wondered. How the hell was I going to fit in? I had never thought of myself as anything special. I was just a scrawny, antisocial redheaded boy in orange goggles, whose only real talent was being good at video games, if you could even count that.

The house was huge, bigger than any I had ever seen. Everything was overwhelming and I just couldn't wait to go to my room. That is, until I found out I was going to have a roommate. Said roommate was a skinny, blond boy with a pageboy haircut. At first I thought they made a mistake and were trying to put me with a girl, but I quickly discovered that I was the one who had been wrong when he turned his harsh blue eyes on me and introduced himself.

I tried to keep to myself at first, but it only took Mello a few days to break down my walls and get inside my head. He was loud and obnoxious and very persistent, but I liked him. He was everything I wasn't; determined, ambitious, intense. I admired him.

He was known for being the second most intelligent child in the orphanage. Number one was this strange albino kid named "Near". Mello despised Near and was constantly competing against him, trying and failing to become first. They were the top two choices for who would succeed L, the world's greatest detective. As it turned out, I was third, but I had absolutely no interest in becoming the next L. When I told him this, Mello asked if I was crazy or just retarded.

Despite our differences, we became the best of friends. We were a perfect example of how opposites attract. We challenged one another, taught each other various things and no matter what, I always stuck by him and he always stuck by me.

We rarely fought, mostly because I'm very easy-going and could actually handle Mello's temper. I also have an excellent sense of humor and was probably the only person in the world who was able to make him laugh when he was upset. Occasionally, though, he didn't appreciate my jokes and I'd get a fist to the face.

This is one of the areas that I challenged him. Mello was used to everyone submitting to his rage, but I didn't. I fought back and we'd end up on the ground, throwing punches and kicks, winding up breathless, bruised messes by the time we were done. This was a good release for Mello. Afterward, he was always in a much better mood and we'd wipe our bloody lips and laugh it off.

I was about twelve when I realized that all the other guys my age were beginning to show an interest in girls, but all that mattered to me were my video games, computers and Mello. One boy actually dared to tease Mello and I for spending so much time together, calling us "boyfriends". It didn't really bother me, but it made Mello angry and that boy ended up in the infirmary.

That same night, I found myself wondering why I didn't find girls attractive or intriguing. Was something wrong with me? As I usually did when I was unsure about something, I asked Mello. He had simply given me that mischievous smirk of his and then before I knew what was happening, he was pulling me closer to him and pressing his lips to mine. A few seconds passed before he pulled away, much to my disappointment.

"Did you like that?" He asked, smiling at me and my dazed expression.

"Yeah," I replied, barely more than a whisper.

"That's why you don't like girls," He explained and I found that I was just staring at his lips as he spoke. They were soft and warm and tasted like chocolate. I wanted more.

"I like _you_," I answered softly, seizing the front of his shirt and yanking him to me to bring our lips together again.

That's how I learned that I was gay, and very much in love with Mello.

And because I loved him so much, it hurt more than anything when he left me.

I was thirteen and he was fourteen when we found out that L had died, killed before he had decided on who would be his successor. It had been offered that both Mello and Near could work together, but Mello obviously declined. He would never work beside his rival, someone he was considered second to.

I'll never forget the look on Mello's face when he returned from Roger's office, anger and despair shining in his grey-blue eyes.

I knew instinctively what was wrong and hugged him tightly and he hugged me back, burying his face in my neck. I had never seen Mello cry, and even then he shed no tears, though his body shook with his emotions. We fell asleep together that night on my bed, just holding each other. When I woke, however, I was alone. Mello was gone and in his place was a note. My stomach sank as I picked up the piece of paper with shaky fingers and read it.

_ Dear Matt,_

_I'm sorry it had to be like this, but there was no other way. If I had told you I was leaving, you would have wanted to come with me and I couldn't allow that._

_I have no idea yet where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do. All I know is that it will be dangerous and I don't want to risk your life as well as mine._

_Don't try to find me; you'll only be wasting your time. It would be best if you just forgot about me and moved on._

_Mello._

By the end of it, my face was stained with tears and I was in an immense amount of pain physically, mentally and emotionally. I could actually feel my heart breaking.

Everything went downhill from there. I stopped doing schoolwork and I rarely ate or even bathed. All I did was lie in bed, either sleeping or playing my DS. This went on for weeks before I eventually became numb enough to resume normal, everyday activities. By this time my grades had suffered greatly and though I went to classes (some of them, anyways), I still refused to do any work. Roger had spoken to me countless times about this, but I saw no point in anything anymore, let alone schoolwork.

Normal people grieve the loss of someone and then move on. I was hardly normal though. Mello was the only good thing that had ever happened to me. He had literally become a part of me, a vital part that I just couldn't live without.

Sometime during my fourteenth year I took up smoking, mostly out of curiosity, hoping maybe they would ease my pain. I have a highly addictive personality if you haven't figured that out already and I was hooked on them in no time. I bought them from a sixteen year old boy named Cory, who had "connections", as he put it. He sold them to me for way more than they were worth but I didn't care, as long as I got them. It's not like I spent my money on anything else, anyways.

When I turned fifteen, I left Wammy's house, two years after Mello. There was nothing for me there, except memories that I so desperately wished I could forget. Roger didn't put up a fight when I told him. I think he was probably glad to see me go and I really couldn't blame him.

I got myself a dingy little apartment in L.A. and paid the bills by doing random hacking jobs here and there. I spent my time smoking, drinking and playing games. My life held no purpose or meaning. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that someday, somehow, I would see him again.

It took two more years before that happened.

I was seventeen when I got the phone call that would change my life. I recognized Near's voice right away.

"Matt," He'd simply said when I picked up.

"What do you want?" I asked after a moment of silence. I wondered briefly how he'd found me, and then realized I didn't care so I never bothered to ask. My guess is Roger had something to do with it.

"I have some rather valuable information for you."

Never in my life had I thought I would ever be thankful to that boy for anything, but at that moment, I was. He had given me a sliver of hope; given me what I had been waiting for the past four years.

Mello was working with the mafia. He was alive and living in L.A.

I hung up and grabbed a piece of paper, writing down the address he'd given me before I forgot and then shoved it in my pocket. In less than two minutes, I was out the door and in my car, driving off to find him. It was late, but that worked out since the address Near had given me was a nightclub that Mello apparently visited frequently. I wasn't sure how he knew this, but I didn't question it.

What were the chances that we'd end up in the same place, the same city? Was it fate, destiny? I had never believed in any of that crap before, but at this point I was willing to.

My fake I.D. was accepted and I sat at the bar of that club for three nights in a row from opening until closing, but he never showed. I was beginning to lose faith again and wondered if Near had been mistaken. That was highly unlikely, though, and I went again on the fourth night.

I was sipping a glass of rum and coke when a group of men walked in, all wearing expensive suits and nasty expressions on their faces. Only one stood out to me and my heart soared when I laid eyes on him. His hair had grown out a bit and he was wearing head to toe leather, but I knew it was him right away. I nearly jumped up and ran to him in my excitement, but refrained from doing so. I didn't need to freak them out and get myself shot.

He didn't notice me as he strode by with the rest of them as I'd hoped he would. They took the table in the far corner and I lifted my goggles, resting them on my head as I stared after him, trying to think of how to get his attention. I could buy him a drink and have it sent over, but that might not go over well with his new friends. Maybe if I walked by his table to go to the bathroom he'd see me. I hadn't changed much since the last time he saw me. I was taller but my hair was the same and I still wore stripes, not to mention the orange goggles.

I knew he would recognize me. The question was: would he acknowledge me… or ignore me?

That thought hurt, like a knife to my heart but I pushed it aside. I had waited too long for this. Without thinking, I stood up and began moving towards him. As I'd hope, when I got close enough, he glanced at me and then did a double take, his icy blue eyes widening in disbelief. I met his gaze with my own blue eyes as I walked past and to the bathroom.

The bathroom was thankfully empty when I went in and I leaned over one of the sinks, my heart pounding as I waited for him to follow me. If he didn't, I would simply follow him when he left. I would not be ignored, even if it meant I had to risk my life.

It was a few minutes before I heard someone else walk into the room. I looked up at the mirror and saw him standing behind me, his expression unreadable. I turned around and literally threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his narrow shoulders and holding on so tight he probably couldn't breathe.  
Slowly, his arms encircled me as well, but only for a moment, before he pulled away to look into my eyes again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, sounding agitated.

My chest hurt when he said that. We hadn't seen each other in four years and that's how he was going to greet me?

"Looking for you," I replied, trying to suppress my wounded feelings.

"Matt, I told you not to look for me," He said softly, and I saw pain flash in his eyes.

"Didn't you miss me?"

He just looked away and said nothing. I exploded then, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shoving him against the wall. We're the same height and our faces were so close, that our noses were almost touching.

"DIDN'T YOU?" I yelled. Thankfully, no one else could hear over the pounding music.

He didn't look afraid, only sad and a little angry.

"Of course I did," He hissed, trying to push me away, but I refused to move. I pressed myself against him to hold him still and felt something hard against my hip. Mello was carrying a gun, which shocked me a bit at first, until I remembered the line of work he was in.

"You're not sending me away. I've finally found you and I'm not gonna let you go again."

He stopped struggling and looked into my eyes, his face calm again. I thought he was going to say something, but instead his hands were suddenly in my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and he was kissing me again for the first time in years. It was rough and a little painful, but I never wanted it to end. Our tongues battled for dominance and our breathing grew ragged. I grabbed his ass, pulling him even closer and he moaned into my mouth.

I was sure I had died and gone to heaven.

Then he pulled away again, as far as I would let him, the two of us panting hard. We shared a look that said more than words ever could and I knew that he would never be able to leave me again.

I moved into his apartment and helped him from there. He didn't want anyone to know about me, saying it was safer that way. I was his own personal hacker and overall technological genius. I was just happy to be with him, to have someone to talk, laugh and make love with. Despite all the shit going on around us, we had each other again and that's all that really mattered to me.

Over the next two years, I did various things to help him get closer to catching Kira and beating Near. I put the co-ordinates into the missile that was used to carry the death note to a safe location, I saved him from the fire after he'd blown up the mafia HQ and, after we moved to Japan, he'd asked me to spy on Misa Amane, the suspected second Kira.

This brings us to where we are now.

I hate Mello's new plan. Well, it's actually Near's. Yes, Mello really did make a compromise with him. Knowing that makes me realize just how desperate the situation is becoming. The plan is dangerous and unpredictable as hell, but what choice do I have but to go through with it? It's another kidnapping, this time Kiyomi Takada, Kira's "spokesperson".

The plan is that I will drive by as Takada is exiting her vehicle, shoot a gas grenade and drive away, causing a distraction so that Mello can take her away to "safety", or so he will tell Hal, Takada's main bodyguard. I'm supposed to take off after that and meet Mello at a specific location, which is some abandoned church.

He thinks my part in all this is safer, but that doesn't reassure me. Mello's job is more dangerous, and if he doesn't make it out alive, I won't be able to take it. And there's a huge possibility that he won't. I just hope that her guards follow me and not him.

Now you see why I might not make it to my twentieth birthday. The best possible outcome is that we both survive this. The second best is that I die and Mello lives, though he thinks the opposite. The third option is that we both die. I couldn't imagine a life without Mello again, so even if I manage to live through this and he doesn't... Well, I think you get the picture.

Tonight is the night and I'm standing outside, leaning on my car with a cigarette hanging from my lips, as Mello goes through the plan again, pacing back and forth in front of me.

"If they pursue you, and they most likely will, I want you to do all that you can to lose them. Don't do anything stupid-"

"Mello," I interrupt and he stops pacing, turning to look at me. "We've been through this fifty times already. I know, I'll be careful... But I want you to promise that you'll be careful too."

I can see the fear and the doubt in his eyes and I toss my half-smoked cigarette to the ground and pull him into my arms. I press my face into his neck, taking in his smell and then pull back to kiss him deeply, savoring the way he tastes. I hate thinking this might be the last time we do this and push the thought aside. He kisses me back passionately, fingers digging into my back. Neither of us wants to let go, but eventually we do.

I'm terrified as I watch him put on his helmet, get onto the motorcycle and drive off. Not wanting to let him get too far without me, I climb into my car, light a smoke and start the engine, driving off after him.

When the time comes, I shoot the grenade and then I'm driving away as fast as my car will take me. In my rear-view mirror I see the huge cloud of smoke and Mello pull up on his motorcycle, then I take a corner and can't see him anymore. Plenty of sleek, black cars are chasing me but they can't quite get close enough. I drive like an absolute maniac, dodging other cars, going through red lights, trying everything to lose them but every time I think I've done it, it's like more of them show up.

I make another sharp turn, checking my mirrors to see if they managed to follow me. Looking ahead again, I see more of the black cars, about fifteen of them, all bunched up in the intersection ahead of me. They made a fucking road block. All I can think now is "Shit!"_  
_

I smell the burning rubber as I slam on the break and my tires screech against the pavement. The car spins out a few times before finally coming to a halt. Behind me, three more cars appear. I'm surrounded and every single one of them has their guns pointed at me.

I think for a few moments, and when I can't come up with anything else, I grab the sawed-off grenade launcher, slide it under my vest and step out of the car with my hands in the air. I'm going to try and reason with them. But if that doesn't work, I can set off another grenade and try to get away. Unlikely, but at this point, I have no other options.

"Hey, c'mon," I say, trying to sound calm. "Gimme a break. Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry around such big guns?"

Making jokes was probably not the best thing to do, but it was a reflex. I make jokes when I'm nervous or, in this case, scared out of my mind.

"You got me, I'm part of this whole kidnapping incident. That means you'll have a lot of questions to ask," I smile at them in a way that I hope looks friendly and not just crazy. "You won't shoo-"

Suddenly, countless bullets riddle my body one after another and the next thing I know, I'm on the ground and I can't believe how much pain I'm in. Every nerve in my body seems to be screaming at me but I can't make a sound. My breath hitches and my vision blurs. The cigarette falls from my lips and sizzles out as it lands in a puddle of my own blood. Eventually, I can't breathe or feel at all. Everything begins to fade and I think about Mello, hoping he's okay.

_"I'll be waiting for you," _is my last thought to him as I die away into darkness.

***

**A/N:** Just gonna say a few things. I'm new to this site and have never posted a story here before, so I'm a little nervous. My love for Death Note was restored recently when I decided to watch the whole anime all over again :p Last time I was a huge L/Light fan but this time around I'm really loving Matt/Mello and wanted to write something about them soooo... I wrote this and thought it wasn't completely horrible and I might as well post it since I haven't posted anything yet. Hope at least someone likes it xD


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